Sarah Francis Art

Sarah Francis Art I rebuild objects with care, cutting, hitting, stamping them into existence. Leeds Artist ~ Welsh Born. Artist Support, and Fund Writer.

A bowl. Some fruit. A bit of time. Painting bowls of fruit is great way to slow down, to enjoy the simple act of looking...
04/03/2026

A bowl. Some fruit. A bit of time. Painting bowls of fruit is great way to slow down, to enjoy the simple act of looking. We all love a bit of still life right? Mines with wood but it’s still a still life bowl with a banana .

I tried other fruit. Apples, pears. None of them hold the space quite like a banana. The curve does something. It sits there like it knows it belongs.

I like making things like this for no real reason. For fun. For practice. Carving bowls. Cutting bananas. Just seeing what happens.

It feels a bit like a modern still life as well. A bowl of fruit, but spars. Simple. Maybe a quiet nod to the cost of living moment we’re in. When did fruit become a small luxury for some people?

The banana holds the space beautifully.
Even though, honestly, I’m not that keen on eating them.

The legs are hand carved, and awkward. They need more carving. I really like the legs, the voids there? As why not? Why ...
20/02/2026

The legs are hand carved, and awkward. They need more carving. I really like the legs, the voids there? As why not? Why can’t nothing hold something really simple like a nice set of sexy wooden legs. Just hold calmly, stilly, proudly an awkward, dark, black, sticky void that needs to be there but you kind of want others to ignore it, and you kind want to ignore it yourself. It has to be there.

But hey look at my sexy legs.

I’ve been enjoying making for absolutely no reason. Testing materials, pushing tools, trying to understand the stuff in my hands the way any trade does. Nothing finished, nothing resolved, just objects breathing for a minute before they change again.

The carving has been punishing my hands so I’m trying new tools, slower cuts, different grips, anything that keeps the idea moving without wiping me out. Wood, scraps, whatever holds weight. I’m figuring out what these things want to be and how far they can be pushed before they give in. Or before I do. Chronic hand pain and chronic ideas.

Working alone fries your head. If you’re also in that weird loop, building the next thing with no f***s given then how are you doing? Good? Happy? Wanna cuppa?

I do. Ahhh maybe I do give f***s.

Wood as sketchbook. Trying forms before they become something else. I do not draw first. I go straight to the material.T...
17/02/2026

Wood as sketchbook. Trying forms before they become something else. I do not draw first. I go straight to the material.

Timber is where I think. I cut into it. I hit it. I press it until something shifts. The surface takes the argument. It holds the hesitation. It keeps the record.

These pieces are not mini versions of something bigger. They are the thinking. They carry weight, resistance, consequence. If I remove too much, it collapses. If I hold back, it sits dead. The balance is physical.

I am interested in the moment before polish. Before the object behaves. When it is still awkward, still negotiating its right to exist. That is where the energy is.

Wood lets me test force and care at the same time. Damage and tenderness live side by side. Every mark is deliberate. Even the rough ones.

This is how the larger works begin. Not with a drawing. With pressure.

31/01/2026

Built slow. Cut rough. Held together.

I have been quiet on here while learning how to build things that actually stand up. The current phase is a tug between ...
27/01/2026

I have been quiet on here while learning how to build things that actually stand up. The current phase is a tug between aesthetics and practical structure. I am working out how to make things that are safe, stable, and able to hold their own weight. Deciding whether I mean the sculpture or myself is an ongoing problem.

Hand carving has been rough on my hands lately. I am testing methods that ease the strain, trying to find ways of working that do not wipe me out before the idea has formed. New tools, slower cuts, different grips, anything that keeps the work moving without burning out the body that has to make it.

Working in 3D feels good and difficult in equal measure. I am trying out new woodworking methods, using what I already have, testing recycled materials, and trying to keep some sense of play before it gets lost in the echo of the studio.

I keep applying for things to push the work to its next level, but most days it is just me, the tools, and the questions. Isolation is a strange teacher. I wonder how many others are making in this same quiet, without networks or feedback, trying to shift their work forward anyway.

Still moving. Still building. Still figuring out what this practice wants to become.

I am not doing a highlights reel for 2025. No achievements post. No tidy arc. 2025 feels more like a prequel and we need...
01/01/2026

I am not doing a highlights reel for 2025. No achievements post. No tidy arc. 2025 feels more like a prequel and we need the main movie first. 2025 was character building year. Slow. Messy. Grief. A lot going on off camera. Necessary work, even if it does not photograph well.

2026 is where Sarah Francis Art Movie actually start. Maybe in a few years I will release the pre prequel so the backstory lands properly. Directors cut energy.

This year I want to be more visible while I make bigger work. There are some genuinely exciting things in the pipeline. Less polish. More process. More truth.

I want this space to show who I actually am, not just the outcomes. I also want to see you. To learn. To help. To do something useful with what I know. I love mentoring. I love writing applications. I love shaping narratives and holding space for other peoples stories. That is part of my practice whether the art world likes it or not.

So. What do you want to see more of here?
Behind the scenes.
Power tools.
Making.
Practical tips for artists.
The admin and thinking no one glamorises.

Happy fu***ng New Year all!
Let’s get cracking hey!

Is your practice in a slow season or a building one?This year my practice has been quiet. Not empty. Just slower than I ...
17/12/2025

Is your practice in a slow season or a building one?

This year my practice has been quiet. Not empty. Just slower than I expected. Life took the front seat. Care, work, keeping things going. The studio became a place I visited rather than lived in.

I keep noticing that when art turns into something I must do, the core of why I make starts to thin out. Making stops being a place of curiosity and turns into a chore. I do not want that. So I let it be slower.

I have been called out more than once recently. You are always helping everyone else. You do not make time for your own practice like others do. Both are true.

Every year I say this will be the year. Maybe next year really will be. There are some big things coming. Some quiet ones too. I am moving back toward the work in a way that feels sustainable rather than heroic.

For now I am tidying. Making space. Letting the studio breathe. Letting myself tick by without panic.

If you are in a slow season, this is permission to stop treating it like failure.

If this resonates, save it for later or tell me what season your practice is in right now.

Half-finished creatures everywhere.Scraps of wood. Abandoned joints. Ideas I swore I’d finish last week. Some days the m...
20/09/2025

Half-finished creatures everywhere.

Scraps of wood. Abandoned joints. Ideas I swore I’d finish last week. Some days the mess feels like art. Some days I want to burn it all.

Light comes easier, but the shadows still belong here. When making feels heavy, how do you push through? Leave it here, not just for me, but for anyone who might need the reminder.

Art is a gathering. A voice that heals. A way we see each other. That’s what we’re making here, right now. How do you push through?

What’s missing from my art right now?Me.And that’s okay.I remind every artist I work with: you don’t have to make. You c...
16/09/2025

What’s missing from my art right now?
Me.

And that’s okay.

I remind every artist I work with: you don’t have to make. You can pause. Rest. Breathe. Art isn’t homework. It isn’t meant to be forced.

Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is not.

I’m tired, I’m busy, I’m elsewhere — and I’m giving myself permission. Because art will wait. And I am okay.

I am okay with it.
I am.
I am — the me that makes the art.

Address

The Mill Gallery, Unit 5 Cardinal House, Swinnow Grange Mills
Leeds
LS13 4EP

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